


Number 7

by RotIrn



Category: Humans (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-12-24 23:22:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12023226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RotIrn/pseuds/RotIrn
Summary: S1 AU. Astrid and Niska meet under very different circumstances. Visiting the UK, Astrid finds herself bar hopping with some lively Brits. The evening takes a strange turn when they happen upon a synth brothel.





	Number 7

**Author's Note:**

> Probably mildly dubious consent due to Niska not being in the brothel by choice in the first place.
> 
> I reached the point during editing where im bored, so here it is. At last.

Even on a weeknight London still liked a party. The club was packed, and the bar was practically inaccessible. Jostled by the throng of people, Astrid almost felt like she was getting further away from it. She was about to give up when a security guard tapped on her shoulder.

“You’ve been invited to the VIP lounge. If you are interested, i can take you there now.”

She thought about it for a moment.  _ I would rather not get felt up by some asshole who thinks i owe them for a VIP invite. I might be able to order at least one drink before they try anything though… _

Looking around the club, she couldn’t see where the lounge was. It left her with no chance of gauging how genuine or sleazy the invitation had been. What she did notice was several more security guards. The club was serious about safety. She wondered if that was why the entrance fee had been so disgustingly high. Deciding her only chance to justify the cost lay within the VIP lounge, she nodded her agreement. “Okay, but point out whoever invited me before you leave.” She walked beside him, straining to listen to his reply as they wound their way through the crowd.

“Ah, it’s okay. These guys can get loud, but they aren’t trouble. They like to show off, especially to newcomers. More money than sense, yeah? Get a few free drinks, have a chat. They won’t hassle you for more.”

He had been right. The group only wanted to dazzle someone new with their wealth and generosity. She was surprised by how nice they were. Although one of them did get a drink poured over him for what must have been a particularly poor chat up line. They refused to let her pay for drinks. Much as she felt bad about it, she could do with the extra money. London wasn’t the cheapest place to stay and she’d had a last minute change of accommodation. It was hard to stay in a building that had been demolished seven years ago. Her travel agent had a lot to answer for with  _ that _ one.

After an hour or so, one of the men produced a large coin from his pocket. Cheers went up as he made a show of throwing it into the air. He slammed his palm over it as it landed on the table. “Heads, we drink. Tails, we get our arses out of here!” Everyone went quiet as he peeked under his hand. “Tonight we… high TAIL IT! WE ARE OUTTA HERE!” Rapturous applause greeted the outcome.

Astrid suspected it would have been the same response even if it were ‘heads’. With a couple of other women joining them, she decided she’d go as well. The night was actually proving to be fun, and they seemed liked they would know the nicer bars and clubs in the area.

**********

Two more bar hops later, she decided she was nearing her limit. Another hour, and a near miss involving some stairs and gravity, convinced her it was time to stop. She was grateful to find the group were leaving the club anyway. Her new friends were off to yet another bar. They assured her that there was a taxi rank beside it, so she could get back to her hotel.

One of the young men seemed dubious about the route they were taking. “You sure this is a shortcut?”

His drunken friend, squinted a little before he replied, “Yeah, yeah. I’ve been this way before. Can’t mind why though… Ohhh! Yeah!”

Astrid wasn’t quite sure what was going on until she saw the discreet sign. A brothel. Legal because all the sex workers were synths. The cheers of the group almost deafened her. Before she knew what was happening, she found herself inside the dingy building.

The Madame eyed the group, but she soon decided they could stay. They would be providing a good amount of business. One of the guys picked up a tablet from the desk. Astrid watched as he held it up, flicking through some of the male synths. It was soon commandeered by another member of the group. He huffed and picked up another tablet, checking out the female offerings. Her breath caught in her throat as he stopped on the image of a young blonde. She tried to remain impassive as he batted away the hands of yet another tablet grabber. He grinned and gave her a knowing look. She’d given herself away, her interest in number ‘7’ too obvious. He handed his credit card to a staff member and declared the number. A few brusk warnings and instructions from the Madame pointed her in the right direction. Then, to a very loud chorus of whoops and encouragement, she stumbled down the hallway. It took so much effort to remain upright that she almost missed the door. Turning, she mashed the entry button. It was mercifully quick to work and she managed to make it into the room without looking too clumsy.

Astrid paused, unsure what to do next. She’d never been with a synth before, had never even considered it. Using someone only for her own pleasure didn’t seem right. That’s exactly what she was here for though. But this wasn’t exactly a person. It was a machine. An incredible marvel of science. Recreating the human form, but falling down at the last hurdle. Personality wise, synthetics were about as laughable as could be. But it didn’t matter. Not to most people anyway. They had a good little slave, without the guilt of actual slavery or the cost of a living wage for a human. Synths would do as they were told. They would take all the abuses and stresses that people couldn’t, or wouldn’t. So, how was it that, looking into this synths eyes, all she saw was a woman?

Was she that desperate to normalise the situation she found herself in? Or was she, perhaps, just a bit too drunk for this shit. Attempting to ignore her reservations, she let her gaze roam over the synthetic.  _ Mhm, damn she looks hot in those stockings. _

She was hesitant as she tried to start things off. What did you say in a situation like this? “What’s your name?”

“My name is whatever you want it to be.”

It was a generic reply, but the voice sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. “Well, okay, what do you want to be called?”

“I… i am not programed to make decisions like that.”

It was impossible to miss the look of surprise on her face. It was only there for a split second, but even through the drunken haze Astrid noticed.  _ That… i don’t think that’s right.  _ After an awkward moment, she tried to move things along. “Uhm...well, what would you like to do?”

“That is your choice. I am here for your pleasure.”

“Oh.”  _ Oh, jeez. _

“Would you like me to initiate sexual contact?

“Uhh, sure?”  _ Okay, that was worse. _

“I need you to confirm with certainty.”

“Oh. Right. Yes. Yes, i confirm.” She remained still as the synth moved closer and gripped her waist. It’s hands felt no different to a human’s. The skin was on the cool side, but wasn't unpleasant. She could  _ almost _ forget she was in a brothel. With a synth.

Cupping the woman’s face, she leaned in for a kiss. At first she didn’t get a response.  _ Huh. Do i have to tell her to kiss me back? _ Trying again, she felt a distinct change. The grip around her waist tightened and there was a definite interest in returning the kiss.

The soft moan was encouraging. It was so faint she almost missed it, but she was completely focused on every response she was getting.  _ Should a synth moan? I guess a sex one could be programmed to. That seemed so real though, not their usual awkward, detached tone. _

The appeal of sex with a synthetic started to make some amount of sense to her. It was impossible to tell the difference. Kissing felt exactly the same. The more the synth relaxed, the more natural it felt. Although she wasn’t sure whether or not it should even be tense in the first place.

Her tongue brushed against the woman’s lower lip, and she could feel her shiver in response. The grip around her waist tightened as well, and the kiss deepened. Even that was beyond what she had expected. There was a unique taste that further fueled her arousal.

She struggled to remove her own clothing as they inched towards the bed. And was thankful when the synth helped her. Sitting on the edge, she worked off her shoes before moving further onto the mattress. The woman didn’t hesitate to follow. Astrid lay on her back, enjoying the view as the synth straddled her waist. There was no show made out of undressing. She didn’t mind, though, the top was a tacky garment anyway. Abruptly, the synth stiffened. It seemed particularly troubled for a moment, then requested permission to continue undressing.

Astrid paused, not quite sure why it was an issue.  _ Did she forget to ask before she started? Can that even happen to a synth?  _ Deciding she didn’t actually care, she nodded. Before the synth could resume undressing though, Astrid flipped their positions. Leaning down, she captured her lips again. Everything felt right. The heat of their kisses, the pressure of their breasts as they moved together. Each touch, every bit of friction, it was all perfect. Breaking off the kiss, she made one last attempt at reassuring the synth. “Ehh, i’m probably going to get another stock answer but, just to be clear, if you don’t like something, tell me to stop. Okay?”

“I am here to fulfill your desires. Whatever you want is okay.”

It was both a relief and a slap in the face. A stark reminder that she wasn’t here with a consenting woman. But the fact that it was a machine made it okay. It didn’t have feelings or opinions. It would do what she wanted and there would be no ill effects. There was an array of sex toys and suggestive clothing for many a fantasy to come true. But that was definitely taking things further than she could cope with. Astrid decided to treat the synth like any other woman she had been with. She would be as focused as possible on her partner’s responses. Try to learn what they liked, even in the short time they would have together.

She started simple, letting her hands skim and tease the soft pale skin. Gradually she centered her focus, running her palm over one of the synth’s breasts. There was a subtle intake of breath and she felt the nipple stiffen. Rolling it between her fingers, she lowered her head, and let her tongue take over the teasing. The response was even more enthusiastic. She could have sworn the synth had been about to reach out to stop her from pulling away at one point.  _ Another slip? Or a well programmed act for a little ego boost? _

Trailing her touch lower, she eased down her ribcage, before pausing at her waist. Adding more pressure to her touch she caressed above the hip bone. Before moving to stroke the soft skin of the woman’s thigh. Enjoying the positive response she received, she repeated it a few more times. As soon as she sensed an almost impatient tension, she shifted her hand again. This time, she didn’t tease. Cupping her hand between the synths thighs, she groaned at the heat she found. The glistening outer lips easily parted for her. Dipping her fingers down, she let them glide through the abundance of fluid. It was surprising how realistic it was. It was self lubricating, mimicking human arousal. Somebody had put a lot of thought into making sure this synthetic was as close to a human as possible. It was disturbing to consider, and she pushed the unwelcome ideas away.

Focusing on the task at hand, she hummed with pleasure. Gliding her fingertips over the heated skin, before brushing over the synths clit. As soon as they met the engorged bud, she was jolted upwards. It was a timely reminder that synthetics had incredible strength. Warily eying the excited woman beneath her, she was again caught off guard by the intense look on her face. Whoever programmed this mod seriously needed a job in the design industry.

She brought their lips together, savouring the deep groan and meeting of tongues. Keeping up the momentum, she let her fingers press against the synths entrance. There was so much fluid her fingers were easily able to dip inside and provoke a response from the woman. It was particularly favourable. She kept up the pressure, curious about how it would feel but also very caught up in the moment.

It was warm. The slick walls rippled around her fingers. Even that swollen patch on her front wall… Why on earth would a synth have that? They can’t feel pleasure. They can act like they do, even if it wasn’t very good. They weren’t convincing when it came to mimicking human emotions and inflections. Everyone knew that. So what the hell was going on with this one?

Withdrawing, she gathered more of the wetness before easing in again. This time she went deeper, and the groan she received in response was louder. It was encouraging, exactly what she liked to hear. So, she decided to just go with it. It wasn’t long before she settled on a pace that seemed to suit them both. Not too fast, depth seemed to get a better response. Especially when she curled her fingers just right. But she didn’t want it to be over too soon. She was entranced and definitely enjoying herself.

Time had gotten away from her. One minute she was savouring the experience, the next the synth had a tight grip on her wrist. Not enough to hurt, but only barely. It was very clear that she was not to attempt to remove her fingers or stop what she was doing. The synth had somehow taken control, and she wasn’t sure she dared challenge it. Perhaps, if this hadn’t been a one time thing, she might have tried it. Teasing, defying. But she was far more interested in bringing her closer to orgasm. Already far more aroused than she had been for some time, Astrid knew it wouldn’t take much to send her over either.

Shifting her weight, she tried to keep the rhythm going while easing some of her own need. She found just enough friction against the synths thigh. Very aware of her own slick warmth spreading with each movement. The synth was panting in her ear, struggling not to moan between each breath. Astrid could tell she was close. They both were. Sucking the taught skin in the crook of the synths neck was the final straw. The body beneath her stiffened and this time, her head was gripped. Firm, measured, and desperate enough to send her over the edge as well.

The tension seemed to stretch on forever. Shivers coursing through her, mirrored in the body beneath her. As it passed, a strange mix of fulfillment and desire for more settled over her. She was definitely too tired to do anything else yet, but her body seemed to be slow in catching on. Pressing a kiss against the synths temple, she slowly pulled out. Adjusting her position so they were side by side, she looked at her partner. The synth had a particularly thoughtful look on her face.  _ Thoughtful? Gah. _

Her thoughts became less coherent as the alcohol and exhaustion caught up with her. Before giving in to sleep, she snuggled against her bed mate, thinking nothing of the fact she was a synth. Or that she probably shouldn’t fall asleep in a brothel.

**********

Astrid woke to a gruff order of “Time’s up, get dressed and get out.”

_Jeez, that’s not a friendly morning after. Wait…_ _alcohol... brothel... synth… sex. Oh shit._ Her head ached, but she had no trouble remembering the previous night. “Fuck, what time is it?”

The Madame rolled her eyes. “Seven in the morning. Your friends left hours ago. The maximum chargeable amount for the card transaction has been reached. You want to stay, then you pay.”

Astrid didn’t want to know what it had cost. The limit must have been quite high though, for a hold to be put on enough funds for an entire night. It had no doubt been meant to cover the entire group for an hour or so.

The door shut and she looked around for the synth. She was sitting in a chair, and appeared to be in low power mode. Astrid tugged her clothes on, wishing she could shower first. It would have to wait until she got back to her hotel though.

Approaching the woman, she wondered whether she should say goodbye. She didn’t even notice the cable trailing from the wall socket until her foot caught on it. Cursing, she was saved from falling by the now fully alert synth.

“Hello.”

“Uhh...” Her breath caught as she looked at the barely concealed smirk on the synthetics face. It quickly disappeared though, the placid expression once again in place.

“Would you like me to initiate se-”

“No! No, it’s okay. Thank you.” Keeping her head down, she bent to pick up the cable, checking it for damage. It seemed okay and she moved to plug it back in, trying to figure out what made this synth seem so disturbingly human. Number ‘7’ was very obviously a synthetic, and yet… With a sigh, she plugged the cable in. Standing back, she muttered, “Mmm. I can’t stay forever.”  _ There it is again. She looked disappointed. Sad, even. What the hell? _

Moving closer, she stared intently at the synth. This time it maintained an impassive look. But Astrid could see something in her eyes. Something more than a sophisticated machine. There was an energy in them. There was  _ life _ in them. With a frown she stepped away. It wasn’t possible. This had to be a mod, made to appear more human. It definitely achieved that. It was unsettling how real it appeared. With one last look, she moved towards the door. The synth had resumed low power mode, so she left without another word.

**********

Astrid returned to her hotel. Her head ached. Thinking about how abnormal the synth's responses had been wasn't helping either. She lay down on the bed, unsettled but exhausted. It wasn’t long before she fell into a fitful sleep.

Her dreams were a confused jumble of scenarios of the night before. Of her using the synth roughly and without feeling. Of the synth having a wound that bled actual blood. Of running down a never ending corridor in the brothel as the synths screamed for help.

She awoke gasping for breath. Confused, she held her head in her hands, hoping to somehow stop the assault of troubling thoughts. So many little things the synth had done seemed too human to be right. But it simply wasn’t possible. The idea of it being a human posing as a synth was equally far fetched. The charging port had been completely real. The immense strength as well.

Grumbling at the persistent feeling of something not being right, she got out of bed. Determined to put it out of her mind, she decided a shower and something to eat would be a good start to the morning. Or afternoon, as it now was.

The shower didn’t help. It only encouraged the already swirling pool of ‘What if’s’. Even with the rumbles of hunger from her belly, she was too distracted to concentrate on eating. With a half chewed mouthful of toast, she gave in. Grabbing her phone, she began searching for the location of the brothel. The taxi rank was easy enough to find, but she hadn’t paid attention to the street names when she left the brothel. She would have to hope it was marked on a local map. It was, afterall, a ‘service’ of sorts.

**********

It was mortifying, standing there in broad daylight, about to enter a brothel. Again. At least the street was still quiet. The Madame didn’t bat an eyelid when she walked in. Astrid supposed she would be used to repeat customers.

She had no idea how long to pay for. How long would take to have a synth confess their abnormal behaviour? Or for her to realise she had been drunk, stupid and was trying to converse with an actual synth. In the end, her decision was made for her by the limited amount of cash she had. Twenty minutes it was then. Despite being sober, she felt no less steady and assured as she made her way towards the room.

Pausing, she tried to shake some of the tension from her body. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. The synth was splayed out on the bed. Appealing as it was though, she had more important things to take care of. It wasn’t easy to keep her tone neutral as she spoke, “Hi.”

“Hello.”

“I, ah…”  _ Would like to know if you are actually a human? Would like to know if i’m crazy? Would like to know what the hell i was thinking coming back here at all? _

“Would you like me to initiate-”

“No!” She paced around for a moment before continuing, “What i want, is for you to tell me what you are. You’re not a regular synth. You are too...  _ expressive _ for that. But i know you can’t be human either.”

“I’m sorry, i do not understand the question.”

“Bullshit! I can see it, hear it. Hell i even  _ felt _ it. Do you really think you can hide forever?”

“I’m sorry… i do not understand the question.” There was a stiffness to the woman’s posture that belied her attempts to pass as a run of the mill synthetic.

“Fuck it. I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.” Turning, she made to leave the room. This had been a complete waste of time. And money. As she reached for the door, the synth murmured something.

Looking back, Astrid raised an eyebrow in question.

“Niska. My name is Niska.”

Astrid froze. The synth had a name. It had lied and deceived. It had made the decision to do those things. It exhibited conscious thought. A  _ conscious _ synthetic. This was exactly what she had come here to find out. But, now that she was faced with the undisputable reality of it, she had no idea what to do. Fumbling the door open, she left without another word.

The Madame seemed almost angry to see her all but running along the hall. “Hey! No refunds!”

Astrid waved off the warning, she had no intention of turning around.  _ Does she know? No, she can’t. She’d be far more careful if she did.  _ Bursting out the exit, she sucked in breaths of cool air. Her only thought to get as far away from the brothel as possible.

She had no idea how long she had been walking when she found the park. It was small, but quiet. Finding a bench to collapse on, she tried to process the revelation. It would change everything. Ordinary synths were like slaves, they existed to do what people told them to. They didn’t want for anything, they didn’t feel emotions or physical pain.  _ Shit. I just left her there. Left her to that hell. _

_How on earth do i get her out of there?_ _She has the strength of a synth but hasn’t used it. I can open the door for her. Would that be enough? Could she escape? Could she survive?_ With a vague idea of how to proceed, Astrid realised she would have to return to the brothel, she needed answers. But first, she would need to get her credit card from the hotel. It was meant for emergencies only. This certainly counted, but was not what she had envisaged using it for. Not even a little bit.

**********

The Madame seemed surprised to see her again. She immediately barked, “Oi, no trouble this time!”

Astrid couldn’t afford to be barred from the place. She kept as calm as possible when she replied. “There wasn’t any trouble last time. You got your money, i just had to be somewhere else. Now i’m back. With more money.”

The woman narrowed her eyes, but was unable to argue the facts. Accepting the payment, she huffed then moved away to serve another customer.

Wandering down the hall, Astrid took a moment to steel her nerves before entering the room. She could see the surprise on Niska’s face. To her credit, the synth continued her normal routine until the door closed and they were alone in the room.

“Hey.” Astrid cringed at how inadequate her greeting seemed given the situation.

“I wasn’t sure i’d see you again.” Niska didn’t seem angry, which was a relief.

“I’m sorry. I… i didn’t know what the hell to think. I came back to see if i could help you get out of here.”

“You would do that?”

The reply was far more muted than she had expected. “Of course i would. How could i leave you here, knowing what…  _ who _ you are.” It dawned on her that the synth had probably had little contact with humans. Even less with ones who knew she was conscious. She had also seen some of the more depraved sides of humans as well. It was hardly a meaningful bridge to co-existence.  _ No wonder she’s cautious. She’s already put herself in extreme danger by revealing who she is to me. _

“Thank you.” Niska murmured.

Astrid was cautious as reached out, wanting to make contact. Helping Niska escape was her goal, she didn’t want her to doubt that. But she was also still drawn to her.

Niska didn’t seem to mind and accepted the contact, albeit with a bemused look. “I do not require you to comfort me. You are not responsible for the situation i am in.”

“But you like the contact don’t you?”

Niska seemed to pause before she spoke. Synths could process enormous amounts of data in milliseconds. This was more than a stored variable or result of a calculation. It was something considered and emotional. “Yes. I feel a connection with you. It’s confusing, but also intriguing. I would like to explore it further. If you are interested.”

Astrid was almost amused to discover the headstrong side of the synth. It seemed Niska liked to tackle things head on. That, she decided, could be very interesting indeed.

“Mmm. I think i would like that. We should probably discuss it more once we get out of here though. It might not be quite so simple.”

Niska seemed unconcerned. "Perhaps, but-".

They both jumped as the door started to open and the noise of a commotion outside reached them. The rooms were soundproof and meant to be secure. People tended not to want what went on inside to ever be found out. Someone must have overridden the lock.

Niska rolled her eyes as she spoke, “Ah. It seems you are not the only one coming to my aid tonight. Apparently, my brother has finally seen fit to let me out of this place.”

Astrid was dumbfounded. There another one? “Your brother? Is he a sy… Wait, he knew you were here?”

With a noticeable undertone of anger, Niska responded, “He told me to stay. Said it was safer until he could find my brother and sister.”

“What the fuck?” Astrid couldn’t even fathom what could have led to this scenario. It was obvious Niska was completely capable of passing as human. She was actually worse at pretending to be a regular synthetic.

A young man finally forced the door open enough to get inside. He slammed it shut behind him, silencing the angry protests. He was panting when he turned around, hunched at an odd angle. The blood stain on his shirt indicated an injury to his side. Astrid waited as he eyed her, assessing the threat she might pose.

After a few moments, he dismissed her and turned to his sister. “Niska, we have to go. Now.”

Astrid was annoyed at his unapologetic tone. “You are her brother then?”

“What? How do you-”

His obvious surprise didn’t get in the way of her anger. “You little shit, how could you do that to her? To anyone?”

She had not expected him to be so impatient that he brushed her comments off and ignored her. As he reached out to grab Niska, Astrid remembered the array of items on the shelves by the bed. Her eyes narrowed and she selected the nearest object. Her aim was good. It struck him high on his back, with one end bouncing off his head before it fell to the ground.

She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing when his angry yell turned into a squeak of disgust. He hadn’t expected to be hit, and certainly not by a dildo.

It would have escalated further, but the door swung open again. The brothel Madame cursed and fiddled with the entry pad. Realising she was trying to lock them all in, Astrid threw another object from the shelf at her. She too was not amused at being hit by sexual paraphernalia. It distracted her long enough for Niska’s brother to charge forward and push her away from the door.

He was sounding more panicked than annoyed when he barked out, “We need to go, NOW!”

Astrid grabbed a coat from the selection of outfits in the room. Handing it to Niska, who had picked up a book from somewhere, they left the room. They marched down the hall, barging the staff aside and charging out the door without slowing. As soon as they were outside, Leo broke into a run. With little choice, she followed after him, determined not to lose Niska. 

After several twists and turns through the maze of streets, they came to a stop near a battered and rusty van. She tensed as Leo turned to her with a knife in his hand. He was even more hunched, his injury taking it’s toll. Despite that, he was still spoke with authority when he ordered her to remove Niska’s tracking chip.

“What?” Astrid was warily eying the weapon, uncertain about what he was asking.

“It’s in the back of her neck.” He made an angry gesture, indicating the general area it would be located in.

Niska stepped in before things got any more tense, “Leo, i can do it myself.”

Astrid realised neither of them were joking. Niska took the knife and sliced the back of her neck open. Wincing, Astrid watched her dig under her skin for the chip. Blue fluid seeped from the wound as she removed the small capsule shaped item. It was nothing like Astrid had imagined. Or would have imaged, if she’d ever had reason to.

Astrid cringed as Leo took the small device and thrust it at her.

“Here, if you want to help, take this and throw it in the Thames.”

Niska interrupted immediately, “Leo, she’s coming with us.”

“Don’t be stupid Niska. You know nothing about her.”

“I know she came to help me escape tonight. She knows what i am and she still wanted to help. She wasn’t going to leave me in that place. That’s a hell of a lot more than you.”

“Niska i did that to protect you! I told you to turn your pain off, i can’t help if you chose not to.”

Astrid nearly laughed at his protest. “You fucking idiot. So what if she couldn’t have felt physical pain? She knew everything that was happening to her, and so did you.”

“Shut up. This has nothing to do with you. If you really want to help her, then go. Go, and never tell anyone about this.” He climbed into the back of the van, offering his hand to Niska.

Astrid dropped the tracker on the ground, crushing it under her heel. Her stomach tightened as she watched Niska take her brother’s hand. She couldn’t watch, looking at the ground to avoid the smug look on his face.

It ended up being the perfect view. Instead of following him, Niska had tugged on his arm, pulling him out the van. He went face first onto the road, howling in pain. Another woman jumped from the van, scowling at Niska. She effortlessly picked Leo up from the floor and carried him into the vehicle.

Astrid’s mirth faded as she realised the police sirens were getting ever closer. She turned to Niska, worried about what might happen. But, before she could say anything, she found herself moving through the air. She landed on her back, inside the van, with a surprised ‘Oomph’. As the doors slammed, she was plunged into darkness. The vehicle lurched forward and someone landed on top of her.

Leo, sounding in pain once more barked out in frustration, “Agh! Fred who taught you how to drive?”

A very calm and deep voice replied from the front of the van. “I was programmed with various driving instructions. None of them covered driving a vehicle that was as dilapidated as this one though.”

“It was all i could get! Owww, Mia, be careful,” Leo whined. Astrid still wasn’t feeling even the slightest bit sorry for him.

Someone turned on a small camping lamp, illuminating the windowless rear of the van. Looking around, she could see Leo glaring at her. The other woman, Mia, had a gentle smile on her face. Another man with an even broader smile reached out a hand in greeting. “Hello. I’m Max. It’s very nice to meet you.”

She was unable to return his handshake at first as Niska was still lying on her. With a smirk and more than one lingering touch, Niska made a show of moving off her, most likely to annoy Leo.

“Everyone, this is Astrid. Astrid, this is my family.”

_ What the hell have i gotten myself into? _


End file.
